


Towing the Line

by MadameFolie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Consensual Use, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameFolie/pseuds/MadameFolie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another fill from the kinkmeme. Norway's got every right and reason to say he's not signing on. But even if Norway doesn't agree to it, he can make sure he knows that this isn't just about power, that he's not using what they've got now to dredge up the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Towing the Line

He's glad he prepared for this kind of reaction, because he can see Norway start shutting down the second the words leave his mouth. That's how Denmark knows when something's bothered him: he kind of gets this blanked-out look like he's trying real hard not to pay any attention to the little voices screaming "red alert" in the back of his mind. And he's doing it now, staring off at nothing in particular and holding his coffee so his hands don't start balling up. Times like this, Denmark wonders if he'd rather deal with an explosive freak-out than a quiet one.  
  
  
"Y'don't have to say yes," he tells him. Not that Norway's the kind of guy to go along with something he's not interested in. He just wants it out on the table that he's given Norway's side of this some thought. Of course he knows how bad it sounds, coming from him. And he knows why Norway's got every right and reason to say he's not signing on. It sure looks like he's not.  
  
  
"An' what's wrong with plain old tyin' me up?"  
  
  
"Nothin'. But there's nothin' wrong with trying something new, either, yeah? I mean," Denmark can feel himself going red trying to explain it. "I was readin' about it some, and it don't sound too different from that. Only difference is how much you...y'know. How much y'let me do." The word all the books and the websites use is "trust". How much Norway trusts him with. That's what he wants to say, because it's the word that changed his mind about asking him to try it at all. Everything, all this stuff he's read, it talks about trust, and it talks about communication. It makes it seem less...less wrong to want this. Still, pulling the trust card on him would be a cheap damn move.  
  
  
"Readin' about it." Norway's not looking right at him, but he's not doing the forced staring thing anymore, either. So maybe he can still salvage the situation, he thinks. Even if Norway doesn't agree to it, he can make sure he knows that this isn't just about power, that he's not using what they've got now to dredge up the past.  
  
  
"I can send you th'links," he suggests, and by now he's blushing so hard it hurts. He's probably talking himself into a corner, here. "And book names, 'course. There's books, too, if you'd rather have it from books. The websites might be your best bet, tho', since those keep up t'date better an' all-"  
  
  
"'s alright," Norway says, but what he probably means is "shut up". Denmark's happy to do what he's told. "Ain't saying yes, but you can quit with the covering your ass. I'll think about it."

  
It's better than a no. Denmark decides not to push his luck. He heads out soon after and doesn't bring it up again.  
  
  
Norway does, in a text a week later: _Alright. Come over Friday. We can try it, but you'll owe me._  
  
  
What Denmark owes him ends up being dinner the night they go through with it. It's a good distraction, and if he didn't know any better, he might think that was Norway's intention all along. Denmark sure as hell doesn't mind having something to do with his hands. If he can keep his hands busy, it keeps him out of his head. It's not like Norway to humor him when he's running his mouth off like a damn fool, but then maybe he's on edge himself even on his home turf. Could be he is. Norway sits at the table instead of hiding out in his study, fidgeting his way through the ingredients Denmark's got on standby and inspecting them for flaws. Denmark thinks about asking him to peel the potatoes. Might help Norway like it's helping him. He scratches the idea, though. Norway probably won't appreciate his bringing attention to it.  
  
  
Denmark talks through cooking, talks through dinner, and talks through the clean-up, too. He keeps on talking until Norway excuses himself to go shower, and then Denmark's left alone with his thoughts while he gets ready for dessert: all the essentials are ready to go, courtesy of Norway's collection of crazy toys. Guy's probably into some pretty weird stuff, judging by what's his treasure box. Denmark's a seasoned man himself, and he can't attach a name to at least half the things in there. The blindfold and the ties that Denmark leaves waiting on the bed are a set they've gotten good use out of over the last ten years. There's a few pulls at the edges of the cloth cuffs and the edges are just starting to fray, but they've held up pretty good so far. They're still sturdy and they can still keep him in check. Most importantly, they both still get a kick out of them. Denmark's brought his own trunk of goodies, too, of a slightly different flavor. Two bottles of water, a protein shake, some scissors and a couple of bananas make up his kit. He moves them from his suitcase to the bedside table so he doesn't have to go far to find any supplies they might need.  
  
  
When it's his turn in the bathroom, he takes his time so Norway has a chance to get settled. If he's as nervous as Denmark thinks he is, he'll want that. Denmark gets his face washed up and brushes his teeth while he's waiting. Not that he can't use a minute to get his own shit together. The toothpaste cap can't seem go back on right and it's not until he drops it that Denmark sees how much his hands are shaking.  
  
  
It'll be good. Or course it's going to be good. He tries thinking about it like he's thought about it so many times before. About Norway's body, warm and unresisting. About the sweat forming on his skin. The way he'll moan, even though he hates making noise. How he's tight. Warm. His hand's a lousy substitute for the real deal, but a couple of strokes should be enough to get him started. He thinks of Norway writhing beneath him, how hard he'll be and aching for more, the tip of his cock trailing slickness against Denmark's belly. It should be enough.  
  
  
...but no dice.

 

When Denmark comes back, the bed's already unmade and Norway's already undressed. He's sitting on the sheets, turning the ties over in his hands with this weird, quiet kind of look he sometimes gets. It's gone the second he realizes he's not alone; the usual mask snaps right back into place.  
  
  
"You're ready then," he says. Denmark doesn't miss it when Norway gets in a pointed look at what isn't going on between his legs. He tries not to blush.  
  
  
"Ready whenever you're ready. Can take your time."  
  
  
"I'm ready."  
  
  
"Really. Don't mind if you need another minute." No pressure. They agreed on that.  
  
  
"Said I'm ready. Christ, enough ditherin'- d'you want to fuck me or not?"  
  
  
He laughs. Norway doesn't. At least, not out loud.  
  
  
"So get over here," Norway commands. And as he's bidden, he must do. Denmark crawls on top of him, the mattress dipping under his added weight. The plan is to go for an hour unless one of them taps out. If either of them wants to call it quits, then it ends, no questions asked. It's funny, Denmark had all these fancy designs on what he wanted to do, and how he'd like to have eased into it gradually. It's been playing out nice and sensual in his head all week, with slow motion and soft lighting and the works. But it's one thing to think it. His hand freezes up on Norway's thigh. Norway opens his eyes to look at him, and suddenly his blood's thundering in his ears. Putting it into action's a whole other beast.  
  
  
"I-"  
  
  
"Easy now." Norway puts a hand to the back of Denmark's head. "No sense in rushin' it."  
  
  
With that, whatever that feeling -brittle and cold- that'd been hanging over him just. Dissolves. Denmark laughs again, burying his face in Norway's shoulder.  
  
  
"Right, right. We want you to last some, don't we?" He gets a sharp pinch in the waist for that one, retaliates with his lips against Norway's jaw and then his neck, and then his hands join the fray until Norway's breathing ragged against him, fingers twisted into his hair so hard it hurts. Denmark takes time to visit all the landmarks he remembers like they were still a part of him: Norway's hips, his thighs, and the hollows of his ribs. Goes without saying, you don't know a guy nearly a millennium without learning a few surefire ways to soften him up.  
  
  
"Hold up," Norway stutters as Denmark catches the tip of his ear between his lips. His knuckles must be white in Denmark's hair. "Thought-- thought you were s'posed to be usin' me how you like."  
  
  
"Who says I'm not doin' just that?"  
  
  
But what Norway's probably trying to say is he's running out of patience. It's actually kind of flattering. Denmark kisses him one more time before he reaches for the blindfold. When he's sure the knot's secure, he helps Norway back down onto the sheets. Denmark's not stupid enough to say it to Norway's face unless he's keen on getting the tar beaten out of him, but it's cute, the way his breath hitches a bit when he's figured out what's going on and likes it. Next comes the going still and the sucking in his lower lip, like he's trying to convince himself Denmark didn't notice. Why he cares so much, Denmark's never going to understand, but then again he's always been weird like that. He turns Norway's face up so he can look at him for a second. Some of his hair's caught under the blindfold, so Denmark brushes it back into place. The ties that go around his wrists are pretty much a formality.  
  
  
So many choices, he thinks. And all of them good. He's not even sure where he wants to start. Norway swallows when he rests his thumb against his mouth. He could push his fingers inside, give a little preview of what else he's got in store. Maybe lie under him and pull Norway's head down to meet him. Norway shifts his hips, maybe getting himself more comfortable, and seeing his legs rub together gives Denmark an idea. He's careful to warm the lubricant up in his hand first, but Norway shivers anyway when he spreads some over his cock and balls. Just to be on the safe side-- wouldn't want anything getting burned up from the friction. He takes longer than he needs to, watching his breath stutter and feeling him get harder in his hand. A couple of almost-strokes and Norway starts to break a sweat. He's gotta admit, being over-careful sure has its perks.  
  
  
Any reservations he might have had left practically evaporate once he pushes in between Norway's thighs. It's good. Hell, it's even better than he expected. He reaches between Norway's thighs to stroke the head of his cock, rocks his hips forward to meet his hand. He must have brushed up against something sensitive, because Norway sucks in a breath hard, but not like he's in pain. More like he's about to moan. Next time, Denmark thinks, they're going to have to be way more explicit on their noise agreement. Looks like Norway's going the whole nine yards in the depersonalization department; for the sounds Norway makes when he's losing it, Denmark's happy to make an exception.

It's not long after that. He gets into a rhythm easily, fucking Norway's slick thighs and the tight ring of his own fingers. When he comes, he comes fast, pleasure spiking hard and dulling off the edges of his senses for a good few minutes afterwards. He stretches out next to Norway to catch his breath. They've still got plenty of time left, according to the clock by the bed. Denmark wipes him off with some tissues. He's read that it's not healthy to keep someone in the same position too long, so he figures now's as good a time as any to give Norway a break, too. He moves Norway's legs for him, folds them up against his chest and then back down again. Flexes his feet for him, and gives the muscles a massage. It's not like he's going to be ready for another round right away; he goes slow, getting the blood moving so Norway has at least one less reason to say he's not doing this again. He sneaks in a look at Norway, since it's not like he's going to see or call him out on it or anything. Norway's taking shallow, shaky breaths, but it looks like he's in good shape all around. He's blushing down to his shoulders and a little in patches on his chest. And he's still hard. His cock twitches a couple of times when Denmark rubs his thighs. Seems like a pretty good sign he's been enjoying himself.  
  
  
Good, he thinks. It's weird, doing it like this. After all this time, it doesn't feel the same not giving the poor guy a hand if he's already done, or begging for a kiss when he's close. He can probably chalk that up to familiarity. A tiny change here or there would throw anybody with couple of decades of habit off. It's strange, but it's definitely not bad.  
  
  
Keeping Norway on his back, he spreads his legs and readies his trusty bottle of lube again. They've got enough time for one more round, and Denmark's thinking he'd like to end things snuggled up closer together. It's not every day he gets the chance to indulge himself a little visual appreciation and mid-coital cuddling without any eye-rolling (at least as far as he's going to see). Norway opens up easily for his fingers again, now slick and coaxing him into something like relaxation. Norway's hips give an involuntary half jerk when he strokes circles inside him. He indulges himself a smile, too, since he can't catch hell for that. And when he's finally inside him-- fuck, he thinks, it's never going to get old. It's a great feeling, being up to his hips in warm, soft and slick; even better feeling his body's every response. And boy, is it responding. He shudders and tenses up tight around Denmark when his stomach gets an experimental brush of fingers over it. Denmark wonders what's going on behind that blindfold when he gives it a repeat performance. He gasps like his eyes have gone unfocused and his eyelids started to flutter. He might not last much longer, but then Denmark probably won't, either. He can feel his second orgasm stoking up steady and sure, a nice slow burn that's going to leave him aching good and deep when he's done.  
  
  
And oh, does he love it when he's right.  
  
  
Off come the ties around Norway's wrists after that. He has to lean over Norway to do it, and he can't say he's expecting it when Norway suddenly grinds against him.  
  
  
"Easy there," he breathes, taking Norway by the hip. "Let me get you out of those first."  
  
  
Norway makes a sound, it's a sound like nothing Denmark's ever heard. It's high. It's weak. It breaks. It's like what half a whimper would sound like, if Norway ever whimpered. It sits wrong in his stomach to know he can.  
  
  
"Wait," Norway rocks his hips up again. Denmark doesn't bother undoing the blindfold to finish him off. He stretches out on top of him for a kiss, letting Norway dig his nails into his sides. Hurts like crazy, but it's probably what Norway needs right now. He's just moving to go down on him, but Norway grabs his shoulder.  
  
  
"Stay here...please."  
  
  
How can he refuse a request like that? Denmark gets him where he wants to be with a few gentle strokes and kisses him through it, until Norway's relaxed in his arms and slipping the blindfold off.  
  
  
"Welcome back," Denmark says. "Want some water?"  
  
  
"...gotta piss."  
  
  
Getting himself to the side of the bed takes more out of him than it should. He sits up slowly, like he doesn't remember how to use his body, almost, and edges his way over centimeters at a time. Leaves him pretty tuckered out once he's there. Against his best judgment, Denmark decides to at least offer a helping hand.  
  
  
"You gonna be okay walking, pal?"  
  
  
"Can do it myself."  
  
  
And he does, stubborn bastard. His legs're probably good and stiff, but he staggers into the bathroom on his own. He's on the toilet a while and doesn't do anything. Not that Denmark's watching him, but he's left the door open and he's sitting there with his head in his hands. A guy can't help but worry. Still, this is Norway he's dealing with, here. The smart thing to do is to back off and let him handle it if he says he can handle it. Sure enough, Norway makes it back from the bathroom alive. He doesn't sit down, more like he hits the bed and oozes out across the pillows. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  
  
  
"Water, you said."  
  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
Norway takes the water, and he takes the banana Denmark gives him, too, raising an eyebrow.  
  
  
"For potassium, Nor. 's what the books said."  
  
  
"You let those books do all your thinking for you?"  
  
  
Is what he says, but even while he's talking back he's peeling it and breaking off a bite-sized piece. He eats the whole thing like that, probably so Denmark's imagination doesn't go getting too carried away. Denmark's okay with that. He's okay with it when Norway doesn't let him help him back into the bathroom for a wash-off, either. He gets the water in the tub running with a bubble bath, and man, what he wouldn't give to stick around and share it. He steps out to give him some space instead. He's already closing the door behind him when Norway calls out:  
  
  
"Where d'you think you're going?"  
  
  
"...gonna have a smoke?"  
  
  
"Not after making a mess out've me you're not. You're gettin' your tail back in here and helpin' set me right."  
  
  
"I-"  
  
  
"Be irresponsible of you t'leave me on my own. That's what those books of yours say, ain't it?"  
  
  
"...say I should be doin' whatever you want."  
  
  
"Think you should be getting your ass over here, then. Gone and fucked up my shoulders good, the least you could do is take responsibility. And if you promise to behave, you can come on in, too."


End file.
